


Round Two

by ReverseMousetrap



Series: After The Gold Rush [4]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Bad Flirting, Cheeky Banter, F/F, Gals being pals, M/M, Silly crack, background gayperion, jack voice: "comedy gold"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 04:19:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15210851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReverseMousetrap/pseuds/ReverseMousetrap
Summary: Fiona takes a break from Vault Hunting to catch up with friends and family, only to meet her match.





	Round Two

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, I just wanted to write some F/F, and something amused me about the idea that Fiona and Yvette could end up getting along despite their, uh, poor first impressions of each other.

Rhys knew that Fiona knew the moment she spotted them across the bar; her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline and she didn’t quite manage to hide her smirk before he caught her eye. He couldn’t figure out _how_ she knew, because he hadn’t even been looking at Vaughn when she arrived, but before he could say anything she was slipping into the booth and resting her elbows on the table.

“You could do so much better, Glasses Face,” she said teasingly.

Vaughn was just as surprised as him, but recovered smoothly to wink at her. “He’s alright when you get to know him.”

He was too busy being confused to react to the insult. “How…?”

“Reading people was my _job_ , Rhys,” she said. “Also, you were playing footsie under the table.”

“Friends do that,” he answered defensively, his face hot.

“No they don’t,” the other two said in unison.

Fiona reached over to swipe Rhys’ beer, ignoring his protests as she took an unladylike slug off the top. “I don’t know whether to be surprised or not.”

“Yeah, we’ve been getting that a lot,” said Vaughn.

“Hey guys!” Sasha chirped as she materialised from the crowd in a flash of bracelets. “Sorry I’m late. What’d I miss?”

“Rhys and Vaughn are banging,” Fiona said smugly. Her sister’s eyes widened, hand flying to her mouth as a high-pitched giggle escaped.

“Oh my God!” Rhys threw both arms up in the air. “First of all, that is just _crude_ , Fiona. Secondly, we have an actual Vault Hunter at our table and we’re gonna keep talking about that?”

“He has a point, Fi. I haven’t seen you in weeks! What’s it like out there?”

The others leaned in excitedly as she adjusted her hat with practised dramatic flair. “Oh, it’s a glamorous life, alright. You wouldn’t believe what you can find in piles of skag crap – I should have been digging through them years ago!”

She noticed Rhys’ nervous glance at her hands, and wiggled her fingers in his face until he shrieked.

Before long she had them under her spell with stories about bandit camps and floating cities, one-in-a-million shots and daring escapes. She looked more at ease than they’d ever seen her, stylish and suntanned with the streak in her hair now a vivid purple. Sasha was glowing with pride even when some of the close calls clearly had her horrified, and her own tales of becoming a legitimate businesswoman had Fiona beaming. When Rhys offered his congratulations, they both thanked him with only the gentlest amount of sarcasm.

The second round of drinks came to their table, and he suspected from the cheeky look in Sasha’s eye that she was about to ask about the story behind their relationship – and worse, that Vaughn might answer with his usual candid innocence. Luckily for him, the crowd parted to reveal an unoccupied pool table, and Fiona clasped her hands together in glee.

“Finally! At the last bar I was in, the only game was Midget Psycho-tossing,” she sighed. “Who’s up for challenging the master?”

Sasha held up both hands and shook her head. “Nuh-uh, not me, sis. You’re _way_ too competitive.”

“What about you, company man? You should be fine with that fancy eye of yours.”

Vaughn put his hand over Rhys’ before he could stand. “Please don’t embarrass us, bro.”

“At least I don’t have to climb up on the table,” he said sulkily.

“I’ll play,” said a smooth, amused voice. Rhys looked up to see Yvette standing over them with her arms folded and one eyebrow raised.

She had finally resigned herself to looking like a Pandoran, but still managed to be her razor-sharp self in heavy boots and a leather jacket. Her hair was back in its natural curls for the first time in years, and Rhys was pretty sure she secretly loved her new low-maintenance style.

“Hey, you made it,” he said, a little nervous. She acknowledged him with a small, curt nod. He glanced from her to Fiona, whose cool exterior betrayed nothing. The last time he’d seen them in the same room was during the countdown to the battle with the Traveller, when the suspicion had been mutual. If this was a peace offering, it was a strange one.

Yvette pulled the two least battered cues from the rack on the wall and held one out tauntingly. “Come on, Vault Hunter. I’ll even let you break.”

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Fiona stared the other woman in the eye as she stood up and took the proffered weapon, breaking into a grin.

“Prepare to be humiliated.”

“Ooh, this should be good,” Vaughn said gleefully. Rhys wasn’t so sure. The words _unstoppable force_ and _immovable object_ sprang to mind.

Fiona lined up her first shot with the precision and efficiency of a sniper; he could almost imagine the calculations running through her head. The white ball flew towards the others with a loud crack, scattering the neat triangle in every direction, and sinking the green in the far left corner.

“Always preferred solids,” she said as she followed up with a second.

When it was Yvette’s turn, she stalked around the table, giving the cue a little twirl in her hand before coming in for a fluid strike. Number ten bounced twice off the edges, tapping the eight-ball out of the way before landing neatly in the pocket closest to her. The black rolled into place in front of what would have been Fiona’s next shot.

“Oops,” said Yvette, tossing her hair as she squeezed past to make her next move.

“Don’t worry about it,” Fiona answered easily, though she looked down at the table with renewed concentration.

Both women were totally absorbed in the game; the table watched them duel in a silence that was part awe and part terror. None of them had ever seen their champion meet her match. Even Sasha had stopped joking about betting on the outcome. The balls sank in rapid succession, the trajectories becoming more and more complex as they fought to block each other’s lines of sight. Rhys reached for Vaughn’s hand under the table.

“Have you ever seen Yvette flirt?” his friend asked under his breath. “Because this is kind of how I’ve imagined it.”

“No way,” he replied, frowning, but he couldn’t help but notice that Yvette’s attention was not entirely on the game.

Sasha slid across the seat to join their conversation. “What are we whispering about?”

Another sharp crack resounded through the bar. Fiona stood back and watched the white ball graze against the red, pushing it into a side pocket.

Leaning over, Rhys chose his words as diplomatically as he could. “Just wondering. Does your sister…have a type?”

She cocked her head in response, eyeing him curiously. “What do you mean?”

“Because Yvette…well, she’s not easily impressed, but they seem to be getting along.”

“Wait, are you saying –”

Yvette’s jacket landed between them as she tossed it aside, before diving in with an unnecessarily powerful shot that sent the last striped ball rocketing into its target pocket. Only the black and white remained on the table.

“Looks like it’s pistols at dawn, hon,” she drawled, her eyes fixed on Fiona.

“Good thing I never miss,” the other woman answered.

Vaughn coughed into his hand, and it sounded suspiciously like _“Gaaay.”_

Yvette shot a deadly aside glance at him, but before anyone could answer there was an almighty squeal and a tiny pale body flew over their heads – Fiona yanked her aside just in time as the Psycho crashed onto the pool table, cracking it down the middle.

“MIDGE-MIDGE CAN FLYYYY!” the little man screamed joyfully, as a furious August stormed over dragging a bandit by the shirt, loudly reminding him that his establishment was no longer hosting idiotic pissing contests and that he was not afraid to enforce bans by any means necessary.

“I…thanks,” Yvette said grudgingly as she got her balance back.

“Don’t mention it.” Fiona winked, letting her hand linger on her shoulder. “We’ll finish this some other time, then?”

“I look forward to it.”

The three friends at the table glanced at each other, and Sasha was the first to burst out laughing, the undisguised annoyance on her sister’s face only making it worse.

“Alright, ladies,” said Vaughn, wiping quiet tears of mirth from his eyes. “Call a truce and come sit down. Sounds like you have a lot to talk about.”


End file.
